


Howl

by wordcraze



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:28:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordcraze/pseuds/wordcraze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Zayn is a werewolf, and Harry is the human he can't stay away from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Zayn and his pack move to a small town, and it doesn’t take long for him to be fascinated by Harry, a boy who works at the local bakery.

When Zayn closes his eyes, he sees blood. He sees the scattered corpses of his pack, their eyes wide, and lifeless. The strong scent of death hits him, and it smells earthy and metallic. But when he opens his eyes, it’s all gone, and he’s left with nothing but his scars, and a gruesome memory.

"Zayn," a tentative voice brings him out of his thoughts, and he turns his head to see Liam. "We have to go." Niall appears behind Liam, places a hand on his shoulder, then looks to the door. They have to hurry.

"Give me a minute," Zayn says, and when they don’t move, he narrows his eyes, and adds an edge of authority to his voice. "Go." And they leave without another word. One of the perks of being an alpha. Zayn’s not used to the new power that now flows through him, and he wishes his father had prepared him for this. But no one predicted the brutal attack on their family, picking them off one by one until it was just Zayn left. He had been next in line, but this was too soon. All this power and responsibility, left to a boy, barely an adult. But he has Liam and Niall now, his new pack. His new family. And he can’t stand here, reminscing and regretting. They have to protect each other. They have to run.

\- - -

Zayn isn’t sure how he feels about this sleepy new town, but he can’t really act on his own feelings, not when he has a pack to protect. Liam and Niall are new to this lifestyle since having been bitten by Zayn not too long after his first pack was killed off. Alphas draw their power from their pack, and Zayn had none. Not until Liam and Niall. He feels a little stronger, a little safer, and less lonely. Having them around eases the pain of his loss, but not so much.

His father had been the alpha, and his mother came second. They were both turned by the bite, while Zayn was born with it, having both parents infected with lycanthropy. He had been born into a large, and close-knit pack, all of whom he loved, and loved him in return. But a rival pack, larger, and stronger, had slaughtered his family, leaving him to fend for himself. Zayn swears revenge, but he’s young, and so inexperienced, he doesn’t know where to start. He’s lost.

"Leave it," says Tom, who had been a close friend of the pack, privy to all things supernatural despite being fully human. He had taken Zayn, and the two other boys into his care, and moved them to a smaller town. They see him as an uncle of sorts. "They think they finished the job, and won’t be coming after you. Don’t give them reason to think you’re a threat."

"My family is gone," Zayn says shakily, through gritted teeth.

"They were my family too," Tom snaps back. "And I’ve got to take care of the last one remaining. You’re not going to do anything rash, Zayn, not if you want to stay alive."

Zayn doesn’t say anything. It’s no use arguing with Tom. He gets up, and he walks to the door.

"Where are you going?" Tom asks.

"To shift in front of everyone in daylight, and cause chaos," Zayn replies, rolling his eyes. "I’m going for a walk, to see if there’s something mildly exciting in this boring town." He feels bad for being difficult with Tom, since he’s doing all he can to take care of the boys. But none of this is easy for him. He wants blood and revenge, but he’s being advised against it. An alpha on a leash. It’s almost humorous.

Zayn doesn’t tell Liam or Niall where he’s going. He feels the fatigue radiating from the other two, so he lets them be, and takes this walk on his own. Despite the town being small, and for the lack of a better word, boring, it’s quaint, and quite nice to look at. Like something out of a postcard. He finds himself walking down Main Street, looking through the windows of the shops he passes. It’s a little bit difficult ignoring the stares he’s getting, and he assumes it’s because he’s a new face in a small town.

He stops in front of a window to a bakery, and it’s the scent of freshly baked bread that catches his attention first, but it’s the boy behind the counter that keeps it. Zayn notices the boy’s wide smile, his deep dimples, and how genuinely happy he looks with everyone who walks in. It’s sweet, and endearing. There’s something pure about him, something that’s not easily found in people these days. It fascinates Zayn.

When he walks through the door, the boy looks up from his work, and he smiles. Zayn tries not to react, so he goes up to the displays of bread and pastries, pretending to browse. When he looks back to the counter, the boy is already busy helping another customer, and Zayn realizes the only way he can get any interaction with this boy is if he buys something. He grabs a loaf of bread, and goes up to the counter.

"Will this be all?" the boy asks, as he looks up, his eyes green and curious. Zayn’s ears pick up his heartbeat, and he notices it speeds up. He’s not sure why, but it pleases him.

"I’m new around here," Zayn replies. "I’m not sure what’s good."

"Thought so. I usually recognize everyone by face, but not you," he pulls out a small box of muffins, and puts it in a bag along with the loaf of bread. "Here’s a ‘welcome to town’ present, free of charge. Only for your first visit though. I can’t be spoiling you all the time."

Zayn smiles for the first time in days. “I’m Zayn.”

The boy offers a shy smile in return. “I’m Harry.”

\- - -

"What’s this?" Tom looks up as Zayn returns carrying a bag. "Treats?"

At the sound of the word ‘treats,’ Niall comes bounding in like an excited puppy. He goes up to Zayn, and grabs the bag without saying a word, then he attacks its contents.

Liam walks into the living room, “Where did you go?” he asks Zayn.

Zayn just shrugs, then points to the muffins that Niall is currently demolishing. “Wanted to get something for the house.”

"I didn’t take you to be a lover of baked goods, but…" Liam goes to join Niall. "Very well."

Tom shuts his book, and goes over to help himself to what is left of the muffins. “Had a bit of an adventure around town, did you?”

"Hardly," Zayn sits in between Liam and Niall, picking at the crumbs they left behind. "You should see this town’s poor excuse for a ‘Main Street.’ I’m sure the youth population here is positively joyful at the many options of places they have to hang out."

Tom sighs. “Zayn, please—”

"Burgeoning with night clubs—"

"Zayn."

"Their Friday night probably consists of kicking cans at the local convenience store."

Niall snorts, and Tom gives him a look which causes him to shut up. “Give it a chance, will you?”

Zayn is quiet, and his thoughts drift to that bakery boy. Harry. He’s unsure why their short interaction leaves him so dazed, and he’s bewildered by it. A part of him wants to share his feelings with his pack, but another part of him also wants to keep this one thing to himself.

"You okay?" Niall asks with a mouth full of bread.

Zayn looks at him, gives a half smile, and nods. His mind goes back to Harry, so he excuses himself, but he’s stopped when Liam takes a hold of his arm.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk."

"You just came back from a walk."

"I, um… fancy another one."

Liam’s brows draw together, “Can Niall and I come?”

Zayn hesitates, then shakes his head. “I just want to be alone. Is that okay?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, and he heads for the door. He does feel bad for taking all this time alone, but he needs it. Just for now.

He hurries to Main Street again, but he stops just before he reaches the bakery. Attempting to be subtle, he peeks into the window, and sees that Harry is making his way out from behind the counter. His shift must be over. Zayn steps back, and tries to conceal himself as Harry walks out of the building.

Zayn is very good at being stealthy, and spent most of his life perfecting this. He’s a great hunter, and light on his feet, and he’s quick to disappear when need be. All these things are required to stalk Harry as he walks home. Zayn isn’t proud of the fact that he’s been reduced to stalking a human he barely knows, and he’s quite baffled by his sudden fascination, but he can’t help acting on it.

Harry takes his time walking down the street, like he savors each step, and each passing second. He looks into the shop windows, and he lingers when he sees something he likes. Zayn thinks it’s peculiar and lovely at the same time, the way Harry moves, as if each second is a gift, and the way he greets everyone in passing, like he’s so happy to see them, and they too are happy in return.

 _Stop it_ , Zayn tells himself. _You don’t even know him. And you have no time for this._

But he very seldom follows his own advice, so he continues to trail behind Harry. The boy’s house isn’t too far off, and with turning only two corners, they’re already there. Zayn hides behind a tree, and he watches Harry open the front door, then disappear inside. His sensitive ears focus in on Harry’s actions, so he hears the jingle of keys being set down, followed by the sound of footsteps walking upstairs. Zayn detects two heartbeats; one being Harry’s, and the other is softer, and a little quicker. An animal. A cat, maybe. Zayn isn’t too fond of cats.

He sneaks into Harry’s front yard, and chooses the tree closest to what he assumes is Harry’s bedroom window, and he scales it.

 _You are so stupid, Zayn, what are you doing?_ he scolds himself, but brushes it off a moment later when Harry pushes the curtains open. Zayn moves out of view, concealing himself in the branches. With his above average eyesight (courtesy of being a werewolf), he’s able to see the boy clearly. He knows this is wrong. This is beyond wrong, and probably illegal, but he can’t help himself.

Harry sits down on the floor of his bedroom, scrolls through his iPod, then puts on his headphones. Zayn hears that it’s a Led Zeppelin song. He’s startled when Harry suddenly belts out the lyrics while singing into an unsharpened pencil like it was a microphone. Zayn has to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud because, wow, this is not meant for anyone’s eyes, and it’s meant to stay in the privacy of Harry’s room, but here is Zayn getting a front row seat for a concert Harry isn’t even aware of.

Zayn struggles for a word to describe this moment. _Cute_. What a small word, and kind of stupid, and no big bad alpha should ever utter the word _cute_ , but then again, no respectable alpha should be following around a human, and stalking them in a tree. But Harry intrigues him, and no human has ever caught his interest like this. No human ever should.

He stays in that tree, and he continues to watch him. The singing dies down, and Harry is now laying on his bed, reading a comic book. Zayn can see his expressions that range from fear, surprise, and amusement, and he likes how Harry is so absorbed in what he’s reading, and how clearly it’s shown on his face.

If he was given the chance, Zayn could stay here all night, but his visit is cut short when the cat walks into the room. The cat makes its way towards the window, jumps up on it, and immediately spots Zayn, giving him a look that can only be described as a death glare. It paws at the glass, and hisses at him. Zayn takes that as his cue to leave, so he quickly hops down from the tree, and sprints out of Harry’s yard. God, he hates cats.

\- - -

"You’ve been out a while," Niall says when Zayn walks through the door. "Feeling any better?"

Zayn thinks back on the image of Harry singing loudly into a pencil, and he smiles to himself. “Yeah,” he replies. “A little.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn tries to stop himself from thinking about Harry.

It’s not easy to forget Harry, and Zayn doesn’t want to, but he believes he has no choice. There are things he needs to put first, and he can’t have part of his mind on something else. There is no room for distraction. He runs patrol with Liam and Niall, morning and night, around the perimeter of the town, which is easy for them, and doesn’t take much time. It’s necessary to make sure no one is coming after them. Truth is, Zayn is the one that wants to pursue the pack that killed his family, and he knows Liam and Niall will support him, and fight by his side. But he’s not sure where to start. His father was wonderful with strategy, but he hadn’t had much practice with it.

"I’ll have to enroll the three of you in school next week," Tom says, and he’s met with glares from three sets of eyes. "Don’t look at me like that. You can’t intimidate me out of an education just because you’re three scary werewolves." He snorts. "More like puppies, but werewolves nonetheless."

Niall lets out a groan of protest, and throws himself dramatically on the couch, then mutters curses into a pillow. Liam slumps down next to him and grumbles to himself.

Meanwhile, Zayn thinks about Harry. It’s not such a random thought, and he has a reason for it. He assumes every kid in the town goes to the same high school, meaning there’s a great possibility he’ll see Harry every day during the week. Yes, he did tell himself that he has to forget that silly bakery boy, but he’ll have no choice when it comes to school.

So.

Zayn might as well continue thinking about Harry. Seeing him is unavoidable, right? Zayn is quite content with his choice, and there’s a little nudge of guilt inside him which is near all the tragedy and rage he’s buried deep down. It’s something he’s forced to control if he wants a shot at planning revenge with a clear mind. And he thinks that perhaps since Harry is so new, and so different, maybe having a minor distraction that’s far from his tragedy will somehow keep him… in line? It’s what he tells himself. He swears it makes sense, and that’s all that matters to him.

He finds himself walking to the bakery with Niall, who insisted on coming along (“I want to choose the pastries this time”), trailing close behind. Zayn pushes the door open, and the small bell above them rings, causing Harry to quickly look up from behind the counter. Harry’s grin is so wide, Zayn’s kind of caught off guard, and he hopes that Niall doesn’t notice. But Niall’s immediately off in his own world, and wanders to one side of the store to look at the pastry display.

"Hadn’t seen you all week," Harry says, still smiling. "Thought I dreamt you up."

Zayn is surprised at Harry’s words because he hadn’t expected the boy to give him a second thought, but he manages a cool exterior. “Been busy moving in, and getting settled,” he replies casually. “But my brother liked the bread so much, he wanted to come back.” Zayn motions to Niall. He notes the confusion on Harry’s face, and he knows what he’s thinking, along the lines of how could the word ‘brother’ apply to two people who don’t look anything alike. Zayn gives him a half smile, and tries to clear his confusion. “Adopted brother of sorts. I’m glad he and I don’t really share a gene pool.”

"Hey!" Niall makes his way over, carrying a few bags of pastries. "You think I didn’t hear that, but I did. Pay for this and we’ll call it even."

Harry just laughs when Zayn hands over the money. Then he puts the purchases in plastic bags, and hands them over. “Maybe you’ll come back soon?” he asks, his eyes hopeful.

Zayn just nods, and takes the bags from him. “Yeah, maybe.”

As they exit the bakery, Niall wastes no time in unwrapping a treat, and taking a bite from it. But as he chews, his eyes are on Zayn. Suspicious.

"God, what?"

Niall grins. “At the rate your heartbeat is going, I would’ve heard it all the way from Australia.”

"Shut up." At times like this, Zayn gets incredibly annoyed with those heightened werewolf senses.

"If it helps, his was even louder."

Zayn glances at Niall, who has his eyebrows raised. He’s about to answer with another ‘shut up’ but instead, he opts for, “Good.”

\- - -

He can tell himself he’s not sure what he’s doing sitting on the tree branches in front of Harry’s bedroom window, but that would be a lie. Zayn knows exactly what he’s doing. He feels guilty, and a bit on the perverted side, but he’s not doing this in hopes to catch a glimpse of something indecent. He just likes watching Harry go about his normal life, and how happy and carefree he is. It’s something that Zayn envies, but overall he’s glad that someone like Harry is free of life’s cruelties and hardships. He can’t imagine Harry ever suffering, and he doesn’t want to.

Today, Harry is listening to a Bob Seger song, and he’s playing the air guitar to _Old Time Rock and Roll_. He’s got socks on, and he’s trying to slide on his wooden floors like he’s in a scene from _Risky Business_.

Now, werewolves are by no means clumsy, and they’re constantly well-aware of their surroundings. But this is one of the rare instances when a particular werewolf is so immersed in what he’s watching, and can’t contain his laughter, so he ends up tilting to the side, and falling out of the tree.

There’s a tremendous crash when he hits the ground, and he knows it’s just a matter of seconds before Harry goes over to his window to investigate. Zayn has to act fast. He quickly makes his way to the sidewalk to make it look like he’s just passing, but when he inspects the damage, he notices that his elbow is pretty banged up and bloodied.

"Zayn?" there’s Harry at the window. "I heard something, and— oh my god, your arm." He quickly disappears from the window, and Zayn hears him running through the hallway, and down the stairs before he throws the front door open. His eyes are wide as he hurries over, "What happened? What did you do? Does it hurt?"

"It’s not so bad," Zayn says, even though… yeah, it does look pretty bad. "I was jogging, and I had a clumsy moment, so I tripped. I didn’t know you lived here." He can be a fantastic actor when he wants to.

Harry shakes his head, “It looks terrible. I need to drive you to the hospital.”

"No!" Zayn raises his voice, but then he clears his throat, and repeats a little softer. "No. It’s fine. Just a good wash and some bandaging is all it needs." Truth is, this will heal completely in about an hour. One of the many perks.

Harry doesn’t look convinced, but he just nods. “Come inside, at least, so we can clean it. I’ve got a first aid kit.”

It seems safe enough, so Zayn follows him into the house. It’s a quaint little place with family photos lining the walls, and propped up on tables next to potted orchids. It smells faintly of fresh bread, and fully-bloomed roses, mingling with the clean laundry scent that’s so distinctly Harry.

Harry pulls Zayn into a bathroom, and turns on the faucet to let the running water clean the blood off the wound. He gently pats it dry with a towel, and inspects it closely, his brows furrowing a little. “That’s strange. I thought it’d be worse. Doesn’t look so bad with all the blood out of the way.”

Zayn can feel his body healing, and the pain starting to subside, “Told you it wasn’t so bad. Should bandage it up though.”

Harry rummages around in the cabinets beneath the sink, pulls out cloth bandages, and stretches out Zayn’s arm a little to wrap it snugly around the wound. There’s a short silence between them, but it’s soon interrupted when Harry speaks up.

"You smell like pine trees."

Zayn blinks. “Excuse me?”

"Like pine trees," Harry repeats, like his observation should be obvious. "Not like that pine tree air freshener people put in their cars, but like _real_ pine trees. And wind.”

"What does wind smell like?"

"Clean. Natural. It smells like you."

"I’m not going to smell myself, Harry."

The boy laughs, and his dimples are impossibly deep, it makes Zayn woozy. “You could stay for a bit. Go up to my room, first door on the right. I’ll be right up with biscuits. Do you want tea?”

"Water’s fine."

Zayn doesn’t need directions to Harry’s room. All he has to do is follow the scent of fresh linen, and warm bread. The smell of it has become intoxicating to him, and he’s embarrassed with how much interest he’s invested in this small town human he barely knows. But his father had always told him, ‘ _If you have a feeling, always go for it. Your instincts are never wrong._ ' Thinking about his father hurts him, and he feels his insides start to rip open, but he shuts his eyes and lets this new favorite scent wash over him, anchoring him back to present reality.

When Zayn finally gains control over himself, he takes a look around. Harry’s posters range from Salvador Dali’s _The Persistence of Memory_ to David Bowie’s _Aladdin Sane_ album cover. There are stacks of records and books littering the room, and he sees an acoustic guitar and a skateboard propped up in one corner.

When Harry walks in, Zayn picks up a book called _The Sight_ by David Clement-Davies.

"Have you read that?" Harry sets a plate of biscuits on the bed, along with two bottled waters.

"No," Zayn puts the book back down. "Is it good?"

"Yes," Harry picks up a biscuit and takes a bite. "It’s about wolves that can talk. Well, not human-speak, but they can communicate with each other. You find out there’s lots of drama in wolf packs, but I really liked it."

Zayn snorts at this, but he disguises it as a cough, and quickly picks up a biscuit. “So are they like, I dunno, werewolves?”

"Nope. Just regular wolves. I don’t read stuff like Twilight."

Zayn nearly chokes on his biscuit, and he has to wash it down with a gulp of water. “Don’t ever refer to Twilight if you’re wanting to look up real werewolves. I mean… if you ever had a reason to look up real werewolves. Which aren’t real, obviously.” He laughs nervously, and finishes the rest of his biscuit.

"So why’d you move here?" Harry asks, completely oblivious, which Zayn is thankful for. "People rarely move here. It’s not the most exciting place in the world."

Zayn shrugs. “We needed a change of scenery,” which isn’t a lie at all. It would be depressing having to live in a large house that was once full of life and laughter, only to have it be as quiet as a tomb.

"Who is ‘we’?"

"My brothers. Two of them. And my uncle." He notices that Harry is chewing on his lip, and he knows what question the boy wants to ask next, but might be too afraid to out of courtesy. "My parents got into an accident when I was younger." It wasn’t a lie. The murders happened several months ago, and he was obviously younger then, but Harry doesn’t need to know specifics.

"I’m sorry," Harry says, actually looking genuinely sorry. "I don’t even know how that would feel."

Zayn gives him a faint smile, “Good. I hope you’ll never know how that feels.”

Harry flops back on his pillows, and stares up at the ceiling. “My parents are divorced though. Have been for a while, so I didn’t have to go through any awkward fights, or have an identity crisis.” He wrinkles his nose, and looks at Zayn. “But that’s not really anything, is it?”

"Don’t belittle your problems. Of course it’s something. But just because you haven’t had an identity crisis doesn’t mean you’re safe just yet. Wait until that mid-life crisis. It’s inevitable."

Harry laughs at this, “I can’t wait. I’ll get closer to retirement and wonder where my life has gone.”

"And you’ll blow all your money on a shady investment," Zayn says. "On something like pills that make you grow wings."

"Hey," Harry pouts. "I’d actually invest in that." And it’s Zayn’s turn to laugh.

For a moment, he forgets everything, and his entire world consists of a floor littered with music and words, and a bed dotted with biscuit crumbs. Zayn is content to stay, but his little slice of heaven is cut short when a howl pierces the air. He freezes, and recognizes it as Liam, on the south end of town. Something has happened.

"Harry, I have to go. I forgot I had things to do at home."

A frown appears on Harry’s face, and he sits up. His human ears hadn’t picked up the howl. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner.”

Zayn’s heart jumps a little, but he heard the desperation in Liam’s howl, and this is no time for distraction. “Next time,” he says, and he rushes out of the room after a quick goodbye. By the time he hears Liam’s second howl, he’s finally out of the house, and rushing towards the sound. His bandages come undone, falling to the ground in a useless heap, as his body starts to change, shifting in mid-air from a boy to a large midnight-colored wolf.


	3. Chapter 3

Zayn brushes up against Liam's light brown wolf form, and the second he gets there, he knows exactly what had caused Liam's distress. The air smells like burnt wood and spice, and the scent fills him with a memory he fights off daily. His mind burns with the sight of his family's bodies, and a growl sounds in his throat as he surveys the area. ' _It's the scent of Ivan's pack_ ,' Zayn says. Packs are able to communicate through their thoughts only in wolf form, which is a type of communication Zayn prefers. ' _Did you see them?_ '

Liam grunts, and he's visibly shaken, ' _Just the twins._ '

The twins. Castor and Pollux. Ivan's betas. Zayn hates them just as much as he hates Ivan, and he wants nothing more than to rip them apart, limb from limb. He can still see them in his mind's eye, their skin splattered with blood, his family's blood, and he starts to tremble.

' _They know we're here?_ ' Zayn asks, and he obviously knows the answer to this, but he doesn't want to hear it. They just got to this town, and he's not sure if he's ready to leave. He sniffs out the direction the twins were going, and he's a little relieved to see the tracks are leading away from the town, but he knows they'll be back. Niall joins them after his patrol north of the town, and reports the sighting of scouts. Ivan has the town surrounded.

\- - -

When they break the news to Tom, he buries his face in his hands, and he stays like that for a full minute. When he lowers his hands, his eyes are lined with red, and he wears a tired, haggard expression.

“Doesn't matter where we move, they'll always find us,” Tom stands up, walks to the window, and looks outside, like he expects to see danger lurking by their door. “We have to try and secure the town. The house as well, just in case they manage to break through.”

Zayn knows that Tom always keeps a large supply of mountain ash for emergencies, and he never tells the boys where it is. The use of mountain ash is simple. If positioned in a line on the ground, a wolf is unable to cross over and break the barrier.

“Do we have enough mountain ash to secure the entire town?” Zayn asks.

A faint smile appears on Tom's face, “I just need a handful. You know that.”

Zayn nods. It's trust and belief that fuels the magic of mountain ash, and if the wielder is strong in his beliefs, the ash will spread on its own. And there's no human with more belief than Tom.

\- - -

The next day, the boys stand guard as Tom lines the ground with ash, and within a matter of minutes, the town is secure. For now.

“Will that hold?” Liam asks.

Tom doesn't respond immediately, then he gives one firm nod. “It's our best defense at the moment, but finding a way to break through isn't impossible. Though it can buy us some time.”

Zayn walks to the barrier, reaches out and tires to push a hand through, but an invisible force keeps him back. Ivan and his pack won't be able to come in, and Zayn won't be able to go about his personal vendetta and go out. The idea of ripping out Ivan's throat is appealing, but he knows the other alpha is much stronger with skills that surpass Zayn's. If had more years of training with his father, it wouldn't be a problem, but that possibility was stolen from him.

The sun begins to rise, turning the sky pink, and Tom starts to lead them back home. They pass through Main Street, which is completely empty and silent except for the sound of their footsteps. Zayn's head is throbbing, and the exhaustion is heavy on his eyelids, but sleep is the last thing on his mind, and he knows it won't come to him even if he wanted it to. Suddenly, they aren't alone, but Zayn recognizes that scent, and that heartbeat. It's his favorite scent and heartbeat.

“Zayn?” Harry is blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “What are you doing here so early?” He looks from Zayn to the other three, and he smiles. “Good morning.”

Zayn thinks quickly, and replies with, “We were just, um... hiking.” He hears Niall sort behind him. “Harry, this is my family, Tom, Liam, and you've already met Niall. Guys, this is Harry. He works at the bakery.”

Tom smiles, and reaches out to give Harry a firm handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Harry. The bread is fantastic.”

Harry beams at the compliment. “Well, I'm about to open the bakery, but the bakers have been at it for hours already, so everything will be fresh out of the oven. You could all come inside?”

Tom shoots a quick look at Zayn, “That's nice of you, Harry, but I'm afraid we have a busy morning ahead of us. However... Zayn might have a moment?”

Every bit of Zayn's exhaustion leaves his body, and he blinks rapidly a few times. “Erm... well, I suppose I can pick up some bread while you lot go on ahead.”

“Brilliant,” Tom grins, and claps Zayn on the back. “We'll be off. Have a wonderful morning, Harry.” And with that, the three of themcontinue on home.

It's impossible to hide anything from Tom, and it's ridiculous how he's so in tune with Zayn and the rest of the pack. But it gets quite annoying too, especially when he decides to play matchmaker.

“Come in,” Harry unlocks the door to the bakery. “You're our first customer.”

Zayn steps inside and is enveloped with warmth and the smell of freshly-baked bread. He sits down at one of the tables, and rubs his temples in circular motions; the recent events still weighing heavily on his mind. Being around Harry eases some of the pressure, but it's not enough to fully calm the dread and anxiety burrowing its way through his muscles and bones.

“How do you take your coffee?” Harry asks.

“Just sugar, no milk.”

Zayn is staring at the swirls and lines of the wooden tale, and he absentmindedly traces a finger over them, not realizing that Harry had placed the coffee in front of him.

“You're a bit spaced out,” Harry frowns a little as he takes a seat across from Zayn. “And you kind of just bolted yesterday.”

Zayn sips his coffee and takes comfort in the warmth spreading through his body. “Sorry about that. I had just... forgotten to do something.” He doesn't like the fact that he has to lie, but the truth really isn't an option either. Getting close to anyone outside his pack besides Tom was an idea that never occurred to him, but there's something about Harry that leaves him powerless, and unable to shut himself off. It doesn't make sense.

“How's your arm?”

_Shit_. Zayn had completely forgotten about that. His arm is completely healed, and though it's the norm for werewolves, humans might find it a tad confusing. And scary. But thankfully, Zayn is wearing a long-sleeved shirt. “Healing just fine thanks to your bandaging skills.” Harry's cheeks turn pink, and Zayn has to bite his lip and look down to avoid smiling.

“Your family is nice, “Harry says.

“Yeah, they're great. They don't know how to mind their own business though.”

“I think that sounds kind of nice.”

“What's your family like?”

Harry chews on his bottom lip and picks a little at his nails, “My sister got a place of her own, and my mother's always at work. Don't see my dad much as my parents have separated. So most of the time I'm just on my own,” he shrugs. “It's not so bad.”

Zayn frowns a little, “It's not so bad being alone sometimes. But these days, everyone needs people to survive. You could go crazy without people.”

There's a short silence, and finally Harry speaks, “Am I going to go crazy, Zayn?” a faint smile plays on his lips.

Zayn looks up, and can't help but smile too. “No,” he replies. “You've got me.”

\- - -

Harry gives Zayn the bread for free, and once again he tells him it'll be the last because “I can't be spoiling you all the time.” But Zayn has heard that before, and he's hoping it won't really be the last. Liam and Niall greet him at the door and take the boxes of bread from him, then go to settle down on the couch. As Zayn is about to join them, he stops inhis tracks and sniffs the air. _Bur_ _n_ _t wood a_ _n_ _d spice_. Liam and Niall are suddenly on their feet, and need no order from Zayn to follow him out the door.

\- - -

Castor and Pollux are waiting for them at the outskirts of town. Zayn could always tell them apart, despite their identical cold ocean grey eyes and chestnut-colored hair.

“Mountain ash,” Castor smirks, and takes a step closer, the tip of his shoe half an inch away from the barrier. “Cute attempt to keep us away. You think it'll work, Pollux?”

“In the meantime, perhaps,” Pollux replies. “These old tricks prove to be quite useful.”

Zayn curls his fingers into tight fists. _You've taken everything from me,_ he wants to say, but he refuses to show them weakness. “What do you want?”

Castor feigns sincerity in his expression, “Sweet boy,” he croons. “We want _you_.”

Confusion flickers across Zayn's face, and he exchanges a quick look with Liam, “Me?”

“Join us,” Pollux smiles. “When we killed your old pack, do you truly believe we just _overlooked_ you?”

“No, Zayn. We're not that forgetful,” Castor bares his teeth, and his eyes grow wild. “We _spared_ you. You're strong, and meant for something extraordinary. With Ivan's guidance, you can be the wolf you're meant to be. Come with us. Be our brother.”

It's quiet, but the air seems to sizzle with tension as they wait for his answer. It's an offer most wolves don't refuse, as Ivan's pack is strong, large in size, and merciless. Zayn walks forward, closing the distance, so there's only one foot of space between him and the twins.

He smiles.

“Go fuck yourself.”

As he turns around to leave with Liam and Niall following close behind, he knows he's dug his own grave.


End file.
